Alright, I’ve been… avoiding talking about this chapter because it offends me. It does so in a way that I suspect won’t bother most of my audience, but it bothers me, and I have been struggling for a way to talk about it in a way that fits the tone of this sporking and doesn’t get us too far off track. We’re going to try though.

[deep breath]

Alright then. [straps on helmet and goggles] Let’s rock this Taco Tuesday.

So because Malina said the word ‘bitches’ over the phone, and Atticus repeated it in confusion, Oberon assumes that he’ll get to have sex with another harem of female dogs or something because this book was written to cause me pain.

Did I just hear you say something about bitches? Oberon asked hopefully.

Haha I hate these characters.

LAUGH, DAMNIT!: 2

Atticus informs him that no, they’re not talking about female dogs, and they’re going to go visit Malina Sokolowski. Oberon asks if she’s “the witch who doesn’t like dogs,” and Atticus replies by saying that most witches don’t like dogs, because they’re mostly cat people.

Okay I know asking for Hearne to do research is like expecting a squirrel to swear off of nuts, but for you playing at home: one of the sacred animals of Hecate, the Greek goddess of witches, is a dog.

Before they do that, Oberon asks for a sausage, and Atticus goes inside to get it (and his magic sword Fragarach), and then a subplot knocks on the door. Or rather, Oberon telepathically tells him that there’s a man outside who “smells kind of like a dog”.

I hauled open the door and beheld a slim Native American man in the street. Straight black hair spilled past his shoulders from underneath a cowboy hat, and he was dressed in a white sleeveless undershirt, blue jeans, and scuffed brown boots. He held a grease-stained brown paper bag in his left hand, and he had a smirk on his face.

It’s Coyote. Hearne hasn’t told us this yet, but it is, because it’s not like I care about surprises at this point.

And because Hearne loves tormenting us, he has an accent.

He waved leisurely with his right hand and said in a slow, friendly voice, “Evenin’, Mr. Druid. I reckon you know who I am?”

If I see Hearne violently murdering accents, then you have to see it as well. What is this, a Southern accent? Or something? This isn’t an Arizona accent, is it? A “Native American” accent? I don’t know. If you know, feel free to tell me.

And oh, it gets worse. Because Hearne decided that ONE badly written accent in this character’s scenes wasn’t enough. So he has Atticus copy Coyote’s accent in his own dialogue, because he thinks this is how you get people to like you.

No really.

I relaxed and fell into the unhurried rhythms of his speech. By speaking like him, I would make him relax as well, and he’d be more likely to trust me. It was the first rule of fitting in: Talk like a native. As soon as people hear a foreign accent, it’s like ringing the doorbell of xenophobia. They immediately classify you as the other instead of as a brother, and it was this fundamental aspect of human nature that Leif had seemingly forgotten. It applies to dialects and regional accents as well, which is why I’m obsessed with mimicking those properly whenever I can. Ask any Boston Yankee what happens when they get pulled over by police in the Deep South, and they’ll tell you that accent matters. So I took my time with my reply, as if I had all day to get to the end of a sentence, because that’s the way my visitor spoke. “I surely do, Coyote. Only question is which tribe you’re callin’ from this time.”

Here’s the thing: I don’t think this is completely off base. I think you are more likely to be at ease with someone who talks the same way you do, or at least like the people you’re used to being around. You come across foreign accents, even if you’re an open-minded person, you’re going to unconsciously accept that there’s some level separation between the two of you.

Here’s why that doesn’t work in this situation though: not only is Atticus’s natural speaking voice and accent not like this, but Coyote knows it. Coyote knows who Atticus is, he knows he’s an ancient Druid from Ireland. It’s unclear how familiar they are with each other, but Coyote at least knows who he is. So Atticus is deliberately imitating an accent that the person he’s addressing knows he does not have.

So let’s try this: if you started talking to someone that began addressing you in a fake accent (that you know is fake), what impression does that give? It’s incredibly sketch. He’s basically presenting a blatant lie to Coyote’s face throughout the entire conversation here, and then turning to the audience and explaining that this is actually brilliant diplomacy.

Once again, Atticus is being stupid, and Hearne is acting like he’s the smartest smart person to ever smart.

What’s more, this feels as if Hearne is writing an excuse for the stupid accents he makes Atticus use sometimes. Or again, to try to retroactively explain why, despite consistently telling us he’s a clever two-thousand-year-old immortal, he talks like a vague approximation of a college frat guy from a television show. “It’s to put modern people at ease!”

Coyote explains that this is his Dine (Navajo) incarnation and asks if he can talk to Atticus over a beer. Atticus gets him one, and Coyote gives some sausages to his dog. Before he does, Atticus asks what kind of sausage, and Coyote says “Old paranoid Druid. You never change. Normal sausages, perfectly safe. Chicken-apple flavor.”

You Keep Using That Word: 6

Alright, stop. He asks what kind of sausage it is, Coyote tells him, and then he just… decides that Coyote’s not lying? Look, a trickster god shows up unexpectedly after an attempt on your life by both witchcraft AND a demon, you know he’s going to ask you for something, and then offers to feed your dog. And so you ask, “Hey, what are you feeding my dog?” And he’s like, “Oh nothing bad, you’re so paranoid, te-he!” And that’s the end of that?

Look, if Atticus were anything within the orbit of paranoid, he’d be double-checking to make sure that the sausages were exactly what Coyote said they were. Instead, he looks at them, decides Coyote’s right, and feeds them to his dog.

Let me repeat: A TRICKSTER GOD SHOWS UP AT HIS HOUSE TO ASK FOR SOMETHING, AND ATTICUS LETS HIM FEED HIS DOG

Which is flipping WEIRD, because just earlier this very book Atticus tells Leif “Never trust Loki, he’s a trickster by nature,” (although again, Leif being an ACTUAL NORSEMAN should know that already), and when an actual trickster god shows up he only barely questions the food that he gives to his supposed best friend in the world.

Oberon says the sausages are awesome, and before Atticus can relay that to Coyote (because Oberon speaks telepathically, you know), Coyote answers that he’s glad that he likes them, indicating that he too can talk to animals, though he acts like it’s not a big deal. Atticus takes notice of it.

“So, seen any demons ‘round here?”

This gets a reaction out of both Atticus and Oberon, and in the following exchange Coyote’s terrible accent explains that he saw the demon coming in this direction and followed. So you see, Coyote’s got an interest in these demons, and he blames Atticus for them being around munching on people.

“What do you care if a demon makes mischief in town?” I asked.

“What do I care? If a demon went ‘round eatin’ white men like you, you’re right, I wouldn’t care. But I said they’re eatin’ people, an’ by that I mean they’re eatin’ my people, Mr. Druid. My people are feedin’ a demon that’s here because of you. So we have somethin’ to talk about, you an’ I.”

What’s this? Do I hear trumpets sound? Do I see Four Horsemen approaching? Do Fenrir’s bonds break? Because for once, a character is making Atticus take responsibility for something. This is astounding. This is nigh unbelievable, guys. Because Coyote tells Atticus to clean his own messes, and he does it. Okay, Coyote has to threaten him (we’ll get to that), but you know how rare this kind of thing is?

Atticus starts asking questions, like where this demon was eating people, and Coyote tells him that it apparently ate a girl outside a nearby high school during lunch when she was off by herself. Everyone else was inside, apparently—Atticus asks about this specifically, because he thought it was weird that a demon might grab someone in broad daylight. When receiving a description of the demon, Atticus recognizes it as one of the first to come through the portal that Aenghus Og opened.

So Coyote asks Atticus how he’s going to handle it, and Atticus informs that he’s going to go with his usual plan: sit on his butt and wait for the Plot to happen to him.

“Lemme suggest a different plan,” Coyote said, his half smile still playing about his face. He pointed the mouth of his beer bottle at me. “You’ll go out to that school tomorrow an’ kill that demon afore it kills again. There are more of my people at that school, an’ I don’t wanna lose another one ‘cause you wanna wait.”

Again: for once, someone is calling out Atticus on something, and it actually yields results. Because Atticus’s plan is to not have one, to wait for Plot to happen and just “be prepared” by which we mean pull a solution out of his armpit. This is, if you remember, how Atticus dealt with all of his problems in the last book. He pointedly ignores the Plot even after he insists he’s going to take it seriously, going about his day as if nothing’s wrong. He was going to do that again, but Coyote makes him pretend he gives a crap.

Atticus tries to pass the buck by saying, “Well if you care so much why don’t YOU do it?” Which… isn’t an unfair point, but again, it IS Atticus’s fault that the demons are here to begin with. Except instead of saying that, Coyote tries to tell him that as the demon is from a different belief system, Coyote’s own powers won’t be as effective against it as a white man’s. And that’s actually a flawed bit of reasoning, and Atticus even points that out: Atticus isn’t from the same belief system either! He’s an Irish pagan, not Christian (or Jewish, or Muslim, or any Abrahamic faith that has remotely the same kind of demons in them), and not a particularly devout pagan at that. He just killed two of his gods, after all.

I know that maybe being a Native American religious figure means he doesn’t have a great grasp on all of the depths of different religions from other parts of the world; considering that Flidais has to be told about the Parting of the Red Sea and all, it’s in line with what Hearne has written. But it’s still dumb, and you’d think that with Coyote even knowing that Atticus is a Druid he’d know that he isn’t of a faith equipped to combat demons from Hell.

Coyote apparently just thinks because “it’s a demon from the white man’s religion” that all white men have the same religion, I guess? Coyote’s been around long enough to know better.

Atticus more or less says, “Look, I don’t have Christian power on my side, and I’m dealing with my own stuff right now.” Which Coyote doesn’t take for an answer either.

Coyote’s perpetual smirk vanished, and he glared at me from underneath his hat brim. “This is your problem, Mr. Druid. Or didn’t I make that clear? You’ll fix this situation or you’ll answer to me. An’ to Pima Coyote. An’ Tohono Coyote, an’ Apache Coyote too. An’ while ever’ single one of us might die in the first fight, an’ maybe the second an’ third fights too, you know we’ll keep coming back. How many times can you come back from the dead, Mr. Druid? Me an’ my brothers can come back all we want, but I reckon we only have to kill you once.”

That’s right, Coyote goes so far as to threaten Atticus’s life, and he’s not treated like a villain/antagonist for Atticus to kill. It’s a bit weird, and inconsistent with what we’ve seen, although I suspect that Hearne assumed that Atticus trying to kill the one Native American character that’s shown up would not be a good look.

[Also this seems to confirm that different cultural incarnations of the same mythological figures all exist simultaneously. Take that how you will.]

Now, mind you, Atticus is almost completely immune to death, but he does tell the audience that Coyote could make his life a living hell. Kind of like Aenghus Og supposedly did? Again, this would usually put a character in antagonist territory. He hates Malina, after all, who has done nowhere near this amount of smack talking.

So Atticus asks for a ride, because it’s out of town and he doesn’t have a car—he rides a bike to work, remember? Coyote doesn’t have one either, but tells Atticus he can get one by tomorrow afternoon. Atticus agrees, and tells him to come by at ten in the morning and to bring a bow—they’re going to shoot the flying demon. Coyote expresses some surprise at this, because regular arrows wouldn’t do much. But Atticus assures him that he can get some holy, demon-killing arrows. Coyote asks about that, because he “ain’t never seen any for sale in any of those Cath’lick churches.”

“When were you ever in a Cath’lick church?” I asked incredulously, and Coyote started to laugh. It was infectious laughter, the kind you cannot help but smile at. “I mean, how would you know, right? They could be passin’ out holy arrows with their Jesus crackers and you’d never know any different.”*

[takes a deep breath]

Okay I’m going to try to approach this calmly, so—THAT IS THE BODY OF CHRIST YOU HUMAN-SHAPED SACK OF EXCREMENT AND IF YOU

[gets dragged away from computer]

[sits back down drinking straight out of a gallon bottle of apple juice with a long squiggly straw]

Okay, I could have handled that better. I just think that in light of everything—

Coyote hooted and hollered and howled his laughter, and it wasn’t long before I was doing the same. He doubled over; he slapped his thighs; he laughed silently for a while because he was out of breath; he laughed until he had tears streaming from his eyes. “I bet it was just like that, Mr. Druid!” Coyote finally managed to gasp. “Them priests would come on up to the soldiers and say, ‘In the name of the Father and the Son, here’s a cracker, now go kill some fuckin’ Indians!”

[back with a three-gallon bottle of apple juice and a donut]

Okay, let’s talk about this.

I’m Catholic. I don’t generally talk about my religion here because that’s not what we’re here for, but I haven’t made this a secret either. But I want to make this clear: this is among the most offensive things someone could say to a Catholic. The Eucharist is considered the Body of Christ, and profaning the Eucharist is on the List of Very Bad Things. I don’t want to get too deeply into this, but Hearne just profaned Jesus, as a joke, and I want to make it abundantly clear that I Am Not Okay With This, and Hearne can suck a brick. I’m not one of those people who says you can’t make jokes about theology or Jesus or religion, or anything like that—I’m particularly fond of this one Tomics strip —but this isn’t a fun little prod or light mocking, okay?

There’s also a lot wrong with this that isn’t down to theology or Catholicism.

Like, okay, we can’t split hairs here: Native Americans in general, especially in the Southwest, do not have a great relationship with Christianity. I get that. I can sit here and be like, “Well actually!” and cherry pick examples where this wasn’t the case but historically, it’s not a great set of interactions to go off of and if I did that, it would feel like I’m trying to cheapen genocide of indigenous peoples in the Americas. I don’t want to do that. So Coyote’s mockery of Christianity, while I hate it, is arguably a character trait that fits with who he is.

But here’s the thing: they live in a world in which what people believe about religious and mythological figures is all real. Atticus even tells the Leprechaun in the last book that Jesus is out there somewhere, and if He is connected to belief—hey guys, you just made offensive jokes about someone who has over 2 billion believers worldwide. And no, Jesus doesn’t normally smite ordinary people on the spot for that sort of thing (that I know of), or else Hearne would have been smote before handing this to his editor—

[I mean I would argue that his editor should have been smited after okay’ing the first book but I’m not a divine being so…]

—but Atticus is explicitly not an ordinary person, he’s a Druid who does know for a fact that there’s a Jesus and he just insulted him to get a laugh out of Coyote, the trickster spirit that just threatened to kill him? (Put a pin in that too.) I’m reminded of the bit in Rick Riordan’s The Lightning Thief in which Percy says “Zeus must be crazy!” and immediately there’s a rumble of thunder and his best friend Grover tells him, “We don’t use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky.”

Essentially this: in a setting where God and Jesus explicitly exist and interact with people, Atticus casually profaned Him. “Well I don’t think God is like that!” Guess what? In this universe every version of a religious/mythological figure simultaneously exists! Coyote confirmed it earlier in this chapter! So a wrathful God IS out there, because let me tell you, enough people believe in Him!

Also there’s this whole thing about how they’re sitting on the porch laughing, and Coyote’s laughter is infectious, and Atticus waxes on about how Coyote’s laughing so hard he’s crying, and, hey, Atticus? You forget something? Like, uh, I don’t know, that Coyote was threatening to kill you a minute ago? This is swept under the rug. I can’t say what the audience is supposed to be getting off of Coyote, but Atticus should not be that casual with someone that talked about killing him seconds ago.

And I know I’m not the best person to judge this, but… it’s not that funny, is it? If you’re the sort who goes for that sort of humor, maybe it’s amusing, but not, like, laughing so hard you’re crying? Let’s give it another

Laugh, DAMNIT!: 3

Anyhow, after this last bit of dialogue, they stop laughing because “It was simply too close to the truth to be funny.” I mean, no, that’s not exactly how white Christian/Navajo relations would have gone, even at their worst but—

I cannot speak for what Coyote was thinking, but personally I was haunted by the ghosts of those who had trespassed against me; I was the only survivor of the Holy Roman Church’s war against Druidry.

Hearne, what the fork are you talking about?

Did Not Do Homework: 3

Okay, look, Coyote will get something close to a pass here, but Atticus? No. Because we’re pulling out a list again!

ONE: Atticus is pointedly not haunted by being the last of his kind. It barely comes up in the first book, the one establishing his character. He simply does not care about the fact that the other Druids are all dead. This is the first time it’s even mentioned what actually happened to the other ones.

TWO: You know in real life that’s not what happened, right? There wasn’t a Crusade against Druids? I know that most people’s idea of historical Christianity is basically what you see in Dan Brown novels (which is another whole can of worms of stupidity but we’re staying on topic here), but for the most part, the conversion of Britain and Ireland were, from the records we have, peaceful affairs. And even if they weren’t, there weren’t widespread witch hunts against druids1. From what I can tell (and I will admit I haven’t done a ton of research on this), druids in real life just kind… went away, the same way as milkmen. When everyone was Christian, they became village wise men, sort of unrelated to Celtic religion. And eventually, the demand for that died out, so druids just… stopped. Druiding. There wasn’t much of a point. In this universe, Druids aren’t even tied to a specific religion, so it’s unclear why one couldn’t be Catholic and a Druid.

Or why Druids are confined to Celtic peoples, actually—if they’re not tied to those religions in particular then there’s no reason that there aren’t Druids all over the world. But that’s another piece of stupidity.

The pagan Roman Empire did persecute druids, historically speaking, making concerted efforts to destroy them because they were the ones organizing Celtic resistance against conquest. And Atticus references this in the last book, saying that’s part of why he left Europe when he did—it was too close to/controlled by the Romans, and he knew he wouldn’t be welcome there.

And THREE: hey. Hey. Hearne. Atticus. Got a question:

Let us assume that in-universe, the Catholic Church historically made a campaign out of stamping out all the Druids. How the flying fudge does one wage a war on Druids, anyhow?

No, they’re not all eternally young and immune to death like Atticus. And it takes a long time to train new Druids. Okay, fine. But allowing those conditions, they’ve all got healing powers, control of plants and wind, make potions better than anyone, can shapeshift, see through illusions, and are super strong. Essentially, every single one of them should be like an unholy combination of Wolverine, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Geralt of Rivia. And you’re telling me that the Christians, who as far as I can tell in this setting do not have magic, decided to kill them all? And then… just did that?

How?

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW?

[Personally though, I subscribe to Smith’s theory that seeing what Atticus was like, the Druids all killed themselves out of shame.]

Coyote says goodbye, saying “You’d be a good guy if ya wasn’t so damn white” and Atticus shakes his hand and replies “An’ you’d be a good guy if ya wasn’t a damn dog,” and Coyote finds this hilarious, and turns into an actual coyote as walks off Atticus’s porch and runs off. He doesn’t even leave any of his clothes behind, which Oberon thinks is cool and tells Atticus he should learn to do that.

Also, once again, apparently no one sees this happen despite it being his front porch in a suburban neighborhood.

Atticus ends the chapter announcing that now they’re going to go talk to Malina, which Oberon is less than excited about. And given I know how this book goes, I can’t say I’m excited about it either.

Better Than You: 3
Did Not Do Homework: 3
The Kids These Days: 4
You Keep Using That Word: 6
Make It Easy!: 3
LAUGH, DAMNIT!: 3

1 For historical discussion of druids, I’m using a lowercase letter. As Hearne capitalizes the word in the book, I use capital-D “Druid” to refer to the ones as described in this series. In case you were wondering about the switch. Also this.

Tagged as: ,

Comment

  1. The Smith of Lies on 26 May 2021, 08:00 said:

    Alright, I’ve been… avoiding talking about this chapter because it offends me. It does so in a way that I suspect won’t bother most of my audience, but it bothers me, and I have been struggling for a way to talk about it in a way that fits the tone of this sporking and doesn’t get us too far off track. We’re going to try though.

    You did mention blasphemy. While I am personally not perturbed and have been known to indulge in it, I can sympathize. May I offer you a glass of (imaginary) apple juice in those trying times?

    Did I just hear you say something about bitches? Oberon asked hopefully.

    Of course. Because, just like the ass smelling demons, the Oberon and his poodle harem was something that audience was craving more of… Then again looking at how popular those books are…

    [Leaves in a search for a bottle of hard liquor to dampen the sudden existnetial dread.]

    Okay I know asking for Hearne to do research is like expecting a squirrel to swear off of nuts, but for you playing at home: one of the sacred animals of Hecate, the Greek goddess of witches, is a dog.

    But… but… but the stereotype! A cottage in the forest and a black cat. Isn’t that research enough?

    If I see Hearne violently murdering accents, then you have to see it as well. What is this, a Southern accent? Or something? This isn’t an Arizona accent, is it? A “Native American” accent? I don’t know. If you know, feel free to tell me.

    For my untrained, European eyes, this does indeed looks like a lame attempt at southern drawl. Which kinda doesn’t make sense for a Native American but then again little enough makes sense in this book.

    Also, I am pre-emptively calling it – the Coyote is going to come out very badly in comparison to Injun Joe, who is a self-aware take on the Magical Native trope and actually a cool and complex character, even if he veers into the tropiness.

    Let me repeat: A TRICKSTER GOD SHOWS UP AT HIS HOUSE TO ASK FOR SOMETHING, AND ATTICUS LETS HIM FEED HIS DOG

    Toss this one to the pile with “Atticus transformed himself into animal form in the presence of the goddess who has power of control over animals.” and “Atticus decided that rival witch has his blood and can use it to do magic on him is not something that warrants immediate action.”

    So you see, Coyote’s got an interest in these demons, and he blames Atticus for them being around munching on people.

    Cool, so Coyote and my Headcanon Smerdijan are in agreement on that one.

    What’s this? Do I hear trumpets sound? Do I see Four Horsemen approaching? Do Fenrir’s bonds break? Because for once, a character is making Atticus take responsibility for something. This is astounding. This is nigh unbelievable, guys. Because Coyote tells Atticus to clean his own messes, and he does it. Okay, Coyote has to threaten him (we’ll get to that), but you know how rare this kind of thing is?

    Wait a minute… Are you telling me that there are bona fide consequences and Atticus does not just ignore Coyote’s complaint?! And that Coyote is not dismissed as an old meanie who harasses the pure, innocent Atticus?!

    Yup, the End is Nigh and I need to go make sure I am stocked up.

    “Lemme suggest a different plan,” Coyote said, his half smile still playing about his face. He pointed the mouth of his beer bottle at me. “You’ll go out to that school tomorrow an’ kill that demon afore it kills again. There are more of my people at that school, an’ I don’t wanna lose another one ‘cause you wanna wait.”

    You know, despite terrible accent I am actually liking Coyote quite a bit so far. I know this won’t last, but I am gonna take what I can.

    Coyote apparently just thinks because “it’s a demon from the white man’s religion” that all white men have the same religion, I guess? Coyote’s been around long enough to know better.

    This is weirdly racist. I mean, Coyote is showing a garden variety generalization racism. But the narrative undertone is the weird bit, where by portraying Coyote this way it paints Native Americans as the racist ones and suggests they are at least partially at fault for the division between them and the whites… And given the history of the American West this is… in poor taste.

    That’s right, Coyote goes so far as to threaten Atticus’s life, and he’s not treated like a villain/antagonist for Atticus to kill. It’s a bit weird, and inconsistent with what we’ve seen, although I suspect that Hearne assumed that Atticus trying to kill the one Native American character that’s shown up would not be a good look.

    Well, I am indeed liking Coyote.

    [Also this seems to confirm that different cultural incarnations of the same mythological figures all exist simultaneously. Take that how you will.]

    Which is an interesting notion, but hardly original one. We do know that in American Gods this was also true. And we also know, that Hearne introduced this idea without any regard to how it meshes up with established facts of the world and what its logical conclusions would be.

    [The whole bit about blasphemy] And I know I’m not the best person to judge this, but… it’s not that funny, is it? If you’re the sort who goes for that sort of humor, maybe it’s amusing, but not, like, laughing so hard you’re crying? Let’s give it another

    I am not in the slightest bothered by the topic of the joke or its blasphemous nature, but I can agree that it is not even a good one.

    And eventually, the demand for that died out, so druids just… stopped. Druiding.

    Another industry killed by Millenials!

    Or why Druids are confined to Celtic peoples, actually—if they’re not tied to those religions in particular then there’s no reason that there aren’t Druids all over the world. But that’s another piece of stupidity.

    Ok, I am going with historical fantasy source here (namely, the Asterix comics), but weren’t there Gallic druids as well? With their own, seperate pantheon of gods?

  2. Juracan on 27 May 2021, 06:39 said:

    Because, just like the ass smelling demons, the Oberon and his poodle harem was something that audience was craving more of… Then again looking at how popular those books are…

    Sadly, I have seen some fans claim that Oberon is the best part of these books. They are of course wrong. The best part of each book is the end. When it’s over.

    But… but… but the stereotype! A cottage in the forest and a black cat. Isn’t that research enough?

    For Hearne? Probably. He is the guy who wrote that all college kids think “fencing” means selling stolen car radios.

    For my untrained, European eyes, this does indeed looks like a lame attempt at southern drawl. Which kinda doesn’t make sense for a Native American but then again little enough makes sense in this book.

    I told a Tumblr friend about this, but after my first read through of this book for the spork, I went and read Coyote Waits by Tony Hillerman, one of his crime novels about Navajo Tribal Police. And Hillerman isn’t Navajo, but he did a lot of work to get depiction of the Navajo nation right in his books—to the point that the Navajo nation loves this guy.

    And there is NOTHING like this accent in the two books in that series I read.

    It’s not just your European eyes, Smith. It reads like a terrible Southern accent to me too. Maybe an attempt at sounding like a cowboy out of a Western? I don’t know.

    Toss this one to the pile with “Atticus transformed himself into animal form in the presence of the goddess who has power of control over animals.” and “Atticus decided that rival witch has his blood and can use it to do magic on him is not something that warrants immediate action.”

    Sadly, we must. Atticus is that much of an idiot.

    Wait a minute… Are you telling me that there are bona fide consequences and Atticus does not just ignore Coyote’s complaint?! And that Coyote is not dismissed as an old meanie who harasses the pure, innocent Atticus?!

    It is downright bizarre is what it is, especially if you compare this to the first book. Remember, Atticus is the guy who happily has one of his werewolf “friends” get shot full of silver needles for him.

    You know, despite terrible accent I am actually liking Coyote quite a bit so far. I know this won’t last, but I am gonna take what I can.

    Given how much of a pain Atticus is, I can’t exactly fault you for this.

    This is weirdly racist. I mean, Coyote is showing a garden variety generalization racism.

    It’s really dumb? Again, Coyote knows that Atticus is a Druid, and presumably knows that he’s not Christian, and so he just… assumes that all white people have the same religion? I don’t get where this is coming from, other than maybe to do another “the gods are stupid, te-he!”

    Another industry killed by Millenials!

    I laughed out loud at this.

    Ok, I am going with historical fantasy source here (namely, the Asterix comics), but weren’t there Gallic druids as well? With their own, seperate pantheon of gods?

    You are correct! Hearne, for Reasons, seems to think Druids and Celtic religion were confined to Ireland, but the Britons (ancestors of the modern Welsh) and the Celts of Gaul had druids as well, and had different, but related, deities that they worshipped. The Romans’ thing campaigns against the druids would have been against these, actually, not the Irish ones. From what I can tell the Romans didn’t really have much to do with Ireland. A lot of our sources on pagan druid practices are from Roman sources, because the druids themselves aggressively did not write things down.

    There’s some discourse about how reliable these sources are and what they describe (like human sacrifice and such), given the Romans treated them like enemies, but it’s what we have.

  3. The Smith of Lies on 27 May 2021, 10:57 said:

    Ok, now this is going to be tangential to the chapter at hand, but relevant to a recurring theme with Iron Druid, namely the overpowered main character.

    Why am I bringing it up? Cause I am contractually obligated (or pushed to it by some weird neroses, whichver) to rave and rant about whatever the series I am enjoying currently (you’ve seen Flashman get this treatment). And the current one is a doozy when it comes to making overpowered character work.

    So, without much further ado, let me point you towards Saga of Tanya the Evil (also known as Youjo Senki), a series of light novels about the eponymous Tanya Degureschaff.

    Summary of the first volume as per Good Greads is as follow.

    High above the blood- and mud-soaked trenches, a young girl pits herself against army mages in high stakes aerial duels with bullets, spells, and bayonets. Her name is Tanya Degurechaff and she is the Devil of the Rhine, one of the greatest soldiers the Empire has ever seen! But inside her mind lives a ruthless, calculating ex-salaryman who enjoyed a peaceful life in Japan until he woke up in a war-torn world. Reborn as a destitute orphaned girl with nothing to her name but memories of a previous life, Tanya will do whatever it takes to survive, even if she can find it only behind the barrel of a gun!

    Tanya is relevant to discussing the relationship of character’s power level and dramatic stakes, because she is squarely in the overpowered side of things. Even as a soldier on the frontlines of what is an equivalent of World War I her survival is pretty much never in question for the readers, her success in any given mission is only slightly ever in question. Despite that the books manage to keep the interest of the reader quite well. Which is notable, since we have discussed how difficult it is to achieve this balance in a non-visual medium such as a novel.

    In case of Tanya it is thanks to the fact, that main focus of the books are unique insights and thought processes of the protagonist. Tanya is a weird bundle of sociopathy, economy based view on everything and obsessive work ethics. The action itself, battles and dogfights are described in a pretty terse way, but Tanya’s reactions and interpretations of the events happening often take pages at the time.

    The writing has its flaws (though those may be partially difficulties in translating from Japanese), but the internal monologues of career oriented, manipulative character, especially when juxtaposed with other POVs, are very entertaining in and of themself.

    Secondly, there is the fact that despite her power and abilities Tanya does not always succeed. This is mostly due to the fact, that her attempts to land a safe posting in the rear more often than not backfire in some spectacular way forcing her into the toughest battles. In that regards she is similar to aforementioned Flashman, who always gets to land himself in trouble.

    Unlike Atticus, whose internal monologue comes only as obnoxious, whether one sympathizes and agrees with Tanya or not, her perspective is unique enough to make the books worthwhile read.

  4. Juracan on 28 May 2021, 06:06 said:

    In case of Tanya it is thanks to the fact, that main focus of the books are unique insights and thought processes of the protagonist. Tanya is a weird bundle of sociopathy, economy based view on everything and obsessive work ethics. The action itself, battles and dogfights are described in a pretty terse way, but Tanya’s reactions and interpretations of the events happening often take pages at the time.

    That’s one thing that bugs me with Atticus, I suppose: his reactions aren’t unique. Or at least, they don’t feel unique. They don’t feel like a two thousand-year-old Druid making any observations that wouldn’t have been made by a modern hero of the age that Atticus pretends to be. And when he does stop the action for pages at a time to talk to the audience, it’s always awkwardly done and branches off into unrelated tangents that I don’t care about.

    Secondly, there is the fact that despite her power and abilities Tanya does not always succeed. This is mostly due to the fact, that her attempts to land a safe posting in the rear more often than not backfire in some spectacular way forcing her into the toughest battles. In that regards she is similar to aforementioned Flashman, who always gets to land himself in trouble.

    I think maybe Atticus is supposed to be like this, the idea that he gets himself into trouble, but the way the story’s framed it acts like Atticus is brilliant and everyone else is an imbecile in awe/jealous of his brilliance and power. And again, someone’s always showing up to bail him out of trouble.

    Also he frequently just doesn’t care. When he fears that Brighid is going to smite him for killing her husband, his preparation for that confrontation is to talk to the Morrigan and they basically just agree to say that Bres was stupid and deserved to die, and hope that’s enough. That’s ALL he does, before going back to his shop as if nothing’s wrong.

    When Brighid actually DOES show up, despite a quick show of being scared, it of course turns out that she’s perfectly fine with it all. Because OF COURSE the queen of the Irish pantheon would be okay with theocide, especially of her husband.

    Unlike Atticus, whose internal monologue comes only as obnoxious, whether one sympathizes and agrees with Tanya or not, her perspective is unique enough to make the books worthwhile read.

    I shall consider this book, friendo. Not that I’m in need of things for my to-read pile, but still. Always good to look into more things.

  5. Faranae on 29 May 2021, 22:32 said:

    I’m just posting to say that I read the spork of this chapter, and I’m just nearly speechless at how terrible this chapter is. It’s a special kind of awful, Coyote telling Atticus off notwithstanding.

    I don’t know how Hearne could be born and raised in Arizona and not use Hillerman as a reference or touchstone or something, but here we are. The man lives under a rock, in his own filth, he does.

  6. Usernam on 3 June 2021, 15:53 said:

    Just wanted to say, as a fellow Catholic, the joke didn’t bother me too much by itself. What does bother me is that in this world where apparently everything that people believe is real, the only belief system that is derided is Catholicism (and probably Christianity in general). To me it just seems like it’s pandering to the reddit crowd.

  7. Juracan on 6 June 2021, 22:08 said:

    Just wanted to say, as a fellow Catholic, the joke didn’t bother me too much by itself. What does bother me is that in this world where apparently everything that people believe is real, the only belief system that is derided is Catholicism (and probably Christianity in general). To me it just seems like it’s pandering to the reddit crowd.

    I’ve been on the fence thinking about this. Because I don’t think that it’s quite fair to say that the only belief system derided is Catholicism/Christianity. The first book’s resolution is Atticus killing an Irish god, after all, and the Irish gods are not precisely portrayed as being very godly. And the third book is about going and slaughtering Norse gods. Mind you, he doesn’t talk smack about specific theological concepts, but it’s not particularly respectful in that regard.

    I don’t think Hearne even thought about it much though. If I had to guess, with many other things, I think Hearne thought he handles it well. I think that the Leprechaun is supposed to be a positive portrayal of a devout Catholic character, considering her scene later in this book. But she’s not… she’s pretty terrible. Not just as a devout character, but as a character in general, even aside from her stupid accent. She goes to Mass drunk, talks to her young neighbor about how she’d like to sex him, and is downright homicidal when it comes to the English.

    There is this notion I see in pop culture and in fiction you see that the author’s intended good person example of a religion is always the one who isn’t actually that invested in the religion. Usually this is with Christianity and Christianity stand-ins, though you do see this with other religions in fiction too (particularly Islam and Judaism). I suppose this is what we’re supposed to get from the Leprechaun—she doesn’t strictly follow the rules, but she has faith, and that’s what matters! Except again, her faith doesn’t inform her actions, and I have a hard time believing that the woman that happily helps her neighbor bury a freshly-dead man’s body has anything close to genuine belief.

    So like with everything, Hearne thinks he’s being even-handed, but if he is, it’s in the sense that everyone is garbage and we’re supposed to find it funny.

    In conclusion, Faranae put it best:

    The man lives under a rock, in his own filth, he does.

  8. Faranae on 9 June 2021, 13:29 said:

    I think that the Leprechaun is supposed to be a positive portrayal of a devout Catholic character, considering her scene later in this book.

    She is! I’ve lost the link, but in an interview, Hearne said she’s an homage to his grandmother. I don’t know about you, but if I wanted to pay tribute to a fun-loving relative, I wouldn’t also proceed to make her an offensive stereotype!

    I’m on the planning committee for an Irish SFF convention, and we actually are considering a panel on depictions of Irish culture in non-Irish media. Iron Druid hasn’t come up yet, but I intend to present the team with some excerpts for the sheer entertainment value of Irish irritation that will ensue. I can already hear one particular team member shouting “nine books?! nine! He has nine books!” It’ll be grand.

    I’ve also been thinking about how Hearne’s setting has the Marvel Thor(s) existing, and how that’s a can of worms he didn’t think through. Because obviously no one sincerely believes that Marvel Thor exists, so a critical mass of sincere belief is not apparently required. And yet his setting is… entirely devoid of lesser spiritual beings. Not just in his supposed desert of the Americas, which is offensive in itself. But just generally, the Good People don’t seem to be a thing to Atticus and quite honestly, navigating encounters with the Good People is significantly more important than the Irish gods to the average Irish person who believes in them (see also: the ongoing drama in the village of Ennistymon over a puca statue; the highway that was rerouted rather than damage a fairy tree; the continued use of holy wells). I don’t think Hearne left out the puca and such out of respect for existing beliefs, I suspect he just doesn’t know about them because he Didn’t Do The Research.

    In conclusion, Faranae put it best

    Aw, thanks!

  9. Juracan on 9 June 2021, 22:08 said:

    She is! I’ve lost the link, but in an interview, Hearne said she’s an homage to his grandmother. I don’t know about you, but if I wanted to pay tribute to a fun-loving relative, I wouldn’t also proceed to make her an offensive stereotype!

    And one of her first bits, the part where she’s introduced, is her saying she wants to bone Atticus.

    Well okay then.

    I mean, I know that Hearne thought this was supposed to be good writing, and he mentioned in the Acknowledgements of the first book that he consulted someone about the accent, but that person should be FIRED and if this is supposed to be a tribute to an actual person, uh… it’s not great.

    I’m on the planning committee for an Irish SFF convention, and we actually are considering a panel on depictions of Irish culture in non-Irish media. Iron Druid hasn’t come up yet, but I intend to present the team with some excerpts for the sheer entertainment value of Irish irritation that will ensue. I can already hear one particular team member shouting “nine books?! nine! He has nine books!” It’ll be grand.

    Perhaps this blog post which came up somewhere in our past discussions about this book series can be of use? I dunno.

    This book isn’t that big a deal, but it’s a big enough deal, I think, in that it’s one of the big-name urban fantasy serieses. I can’t imagine why it got so big, other than it checks off a lot of boxes that make urban fantasy popular. But considering how little Hearne actually seems to want to engage with Irish mythology and culture, makes me wonder why he decided to make the protagonist an Irish druid??

    I don’t know, you’ll get a lot of material off of this series at this panel.

    I’ve also been thinking about how Hearne’s setting has the Marvel Thor(s) existing, and how that’s a can of worms he didn’t think through. Because obviously no one sincerely believes that Marvel Thor exists, so a critical mass of sincere belief is not apparently required. And yet his setting is… entirely devoid of lesser spiritual beings. Not just in his supposed desert of the Americas, which is offensive in itself. But just generally, the Good People don’t seem to be a thing to Atticus and quite honestly, navigating encounters with the Good People is significantly more important than the Irish gods to the average Irish person who believes in them (see also: the ongoing drama in the village of Ennistymon over a puca statue; the highway that was rerouted rather than damage a fairy tree; the continued use of holy wells). I don’t think Hearne left out the puca and such out of respect for existing beliefs, I suspect he just doesn’t know about them because he Didn’t Do The Research.

    Like I said, Hearne very rarely engages with Irish culture at all? His depiction of faeries thus far is “they’re descendants of the Irish gods” and that’s it. They’re mooks for him to kill in the first chapter and nobody really cares. If he ever did any research, I think he just didn’t include them because he didn’t think they’d be as famous or something? He’s all about writing something big and flashy that adheres to most of the urban fantasy you know, which is why there are vampires and werewolves kind of copied and pasted in from pop culture, rather than based on anything mythological.